


Mr. Fell and Mr. Fell

by DaniGetYourGun (SharkbaitHooHaHa)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Soft Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharkbaitHooHaHa/pseuds/DaniGetYourGun
Summary: Aziraphale was aware of the tradition where one human would sometimes take their spouse's last name after they wed. He just didn't expect Crowley to do it.





	Mr. Fell and Mr. Fell

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, look, guys, it's soft-Crowley-o'clock!

Aziraphale smiled at the newest addition to his desk as he sat down to sort the mail. It was a framed photograph of himself and Crowley, and he always felt a surge of fondness anytime he saw the surprised expression on Crowley's face as he shoved a piece of cake into it. They both looked quite handsome, he thought, him wearing a traditional black tuxedo and Crowley looking stunning in white.

It was a struggle to tear his gaze away from the photograph to the large pile of mail in front of him. It was his first time back at the shop since they got married a month ago, and quite a bit of it had piled up.

He began sorting, setting the bills in one pile and letters of congratulations in another to read with Crowley later. Anything that was junk went into recycling. He had almost made his way through the stack when he froze, an advertisement clutched in his fingers where they hovered over the bin. He looked closer at it.

The ad was nothing special, just a discount on some gizmo or another, but the name it was addressed to was a different story.

"Darling?" he called our across the shop. Crowley would get a kick out of this.

There was a murmur of acknowledgment, and then a black snake head lifted itself from the window bay where Crowley had been lounging.

"Look at this!" Aziraphale waved the ad around in the air. "It's addressed to an 'Anthony J. Fell!' I wonder who that could be." He chuckled.

"Oh, good," Crowley said nonchalantly as he laid his head back down against the windowsill. "The paperwork finally went through."

"I wonder how they-- wait. Paperwork?"

"Yeah, I put it in the same day you proposed." He scoffed. "Beurocracy."

"Oh?" Aziraphale's heart fluttered. "So that's your name now?"

"Well, for official purposes, yeah. You can still call me Crowley, of course." Something in Aziraphale's voice must have sounded off, because Crowley lifted his head again. "Why? You don't like it?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" _How did I get so lucky? It's perfect. You're perfect_. "I'll get used to it."

\---

Aziraphale was drawing himself a bath and nearly slipped on the porcelain when he noticed the new towels. They were a pair, both fluffy, one white and one black, each with 'Mr. Fell' stitched on with gold embroidery thread.

He wrapped the white one around his waist, and the bathwater went unused.

\---

He soon learned that if he actually wanted to take the calls coming into the shop for him, he'd have to answer the phone before the second ring. Otherwise, Crowley would pick it up, say "yeah, this is Mr. Fell," and then inevitably tell whomever was on the other end of the line that they wanted the _other_ Mr. Fell before dropping the receiver back into the cradle, rather than handing it over to Aziraphale.

The angel had a strong suspicion that lecturing Crowley while blushing and grinning widely wasn't very effective, as the demon kept doing it. Oh, well.

\---

"Hey, Angel, check it out!" Crowley said as he proudly showed off his new business cards.

They were simple, completely black with stark white embossed text on the front. 'Anthony J. Fell' stood out in large, bold letters while 'consultant' was written slightly smaller underneath.

"They're lovely, dear. But what exactly are you a consultant of?"

Crowley shrugged. "You know. Stuff. Things."

Aziraphale flipped the card over and frowned. "My dear, there's no address or telephone number. How will anyone contact you?"

Crowley grimaced. "I don't _want_ anyone to contact me."

That afternoon, as they walked through the park, Crowley slipped a card into the hands of anyone who passed them by while Aziraphale giggled like a fool in love. Which he was.

\---

"I love you, Mr. Fell."

There was a strangled noise, muffled by hands over a face.

"Crowley, dear, are you alright?"

"...I love you too, Angel."

A smile. "Obviously."

A mimicking tone. " _Obviously_."

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've been posting about one or two things a day for these dumbasses, but I am so soft for them. Thank you for being patient with me. :)


End file.
